Fire and Snow
by CrystalHeart40
Summary: This story was written for me by B L Green and she has given me permission to post it. However, it is NOT mine. It is a totally AU piece with Daryl and an OC.


Disclaimer I do not own the rights to anything pertaining to the walking dead. Including their characters, plot or dialogue. I have merely borrowed them for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

Fire and Snow:

For Crystal.

The snow was really coming down in huge flakes, and they were already beginning to create drifts against the trees and porch edges. For better or worse, Crystal was determined, and the early snowstorm took away her last option to back out. She'd taken a leap of faith and rented a cabin for four months to seriously pursue her dream of becoming a writer. She'd spent the first two days getting comfortable and settling in with plenty of supplies. This day, the fourth, was time to really get down to business.

A glass of wine, a roaring fire, and comfy in yoga pants and an old tee shirt, Crystal was ready. Time passed quickly as she lost herself in a world of her own creation. It was completely dark outside when a knock startled her. Who the fuck could it be? No one was within miles of here, she'd made sure of that when she'd signed the lease, and there was a blizzard outside. A crazy person maybe or a bear? Could bears knock? The door banged again, impatient this time, and a deep voice said, "Come on already, it's freezing out here!"

Crystal set her laptop on the coffee table and moved toward the door. "Who is it?"

"Are you kidding me? Open the damn door! What does my name matter?"

Was this guy serious? She was completely alone and isolated. No way was she opening that door. Did she look like an idiot? Well, he couldn't see her, but still.

"I don't know you and I'm NOT opening the door." She replied firmly.

"Listen lady, my truck went off the road half a mile back. You can open this door, or I'm gonna break a window. You've got 30 seconds."

Crystal was almost touching the door and wavering between fright and anger. "You can't break a window! Are you crazy?"

"I'm not crazy and you're dead wrong. I CAN break a window. It's easy. 15 seconds left." He threatened.

"You won't do it," she challenged.

"Wanna bet? Front or back window?"

"Oh shit, hang on." Crystal huffed. The guy sounded serious. Nervously, she opened the door, and he brushed past her.

"Okay, hello, come on in," she said sarcastically. He was already standing in front of the fireplace with his back to her. Regular height, messy longish dark hair, angel wings on a thin vest. No wonder the guy was freezing.

"Would you have really broken a window?" He turned with a small smirk, "Yeah." Crystal barely heard him. She was staring at the most beautiful face she'd ever seen. Arched eyebrows, electric blue eyes, sharply defined cheekbones, full lips, a strong jaw line with a touch of stubble. She tore her eyes away from his face and to broad shoulders, that tapered down to slim hips and will faded blue jeans. If perfection could be a person; it would be him. She figured she could relax a little about a psycho rapist being in her house. The guy probably escaped up a mountain just to get away from women who wanted to rape him!

"Well," he grumbled.

"Huh," had he said something?

He pointed at the coffee table. "Do you have something to drink other than that pansy stuff?"

Okay, he expected her to be able to think. Hmmm, how is she supposed to do that? "Umm, beer in fridge."

He actually smiled at that and Lord, He had a killer smile.

"Sit down. I ain't gonna bite ya." He walked away from the fire lazily moving toward the kitchen and came back with a bottle of beer. He sat in a recliner across from her. "Daryl. Thanks for letting me in."

"Crystal," she offered nervously, "and I didn't want to."

"Yeah, I got that loud and clear." His voice was low and he almost mumbled when he talked. "You alone?"

Crystal reached for her wine glass very aware that she was wearing house clothes, no makeup, and her hair was a mess. "Yes. I came here for a few months to be by myself and write. No car, no phone, no distractions. I haven't even turned on the TV or been on the Internet. I've been wanting to write for years now and finally decided it was time." He was studying her intently and watching her every move.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" He asked.

"God, yes," she admitted, getting up to pace nervously. She sat down on a rug in front of the fire, staring into the flames, but she could feel the weight of his eyes on her back.

"I make you nervous because…" He prompted expectantly.

She heard him get up and the chink of his beer bottle against the end table. She heard the steps of his boots coming toward her. She felt the pressure of air against her back, as he sat down behind her.

"Because…" He prompted again, his voice a low whisper.

"Just because," she whispered.

She felt him touch her hair lightly, playfully. "That's not an answer. Are you afraid of me?"

"No," she admitted. "You don't scare me."

"Then what is it?" Was he really going to make her say it? Did she have the nerve to actually say it? He sat there behind her. So, a last sip of her wine, and with her eyes closed, Crystal took a deep breath.

"Because you're gorgeous. Because you're sitting right behind me. Because you're hands down the sexiest man I've ever seen. Pick one."

She heard him chuckle and felt his hands on her shoulders and him pull her back against his chest which was hard as stone. "Do you know what I see when I look to you?"

Crystal laughed and leaned back into him. "A messy 39-year-old in ratty clothes?"

"Nope," he whispered and slid in front of her. Eyes locked on hers, he leaned in slowly, giving her time to stop him, if she wanted, and placed his lips on hers. Gently at first, but when her mouth opened to his, his tongue plunged inside to taste her. He deepened the kiss, chuckling when he heard her moan, and he placed his hands on her face, touching her gently.

Crystal reached for him, running her hands through his hair and kissing him back even though she felt drunk. His mouth moved from hers trailing down her neck and she leaned back hungry for more.

"Hey, keep your eyes open and on me," he growled possessively. She watched, mesmerized as he removed his vest and his shirt. She reached out to see if his shoulders were as hard as they looked, and he grabbed her chin to tilt her face to his.

"Eyes on me," he insisted, and kissed her again, his tongue mating with hers, and she could taste him. A heady masculine taste of beer, cigarettes, and just him.

He kept her eyes trapped and reached down to pull her shirt over her head, then he kissed her again. Watching his eyes, as his tongue mated with hers, was new for Crystal, and sent heat straight to the core of her.

He pulled away and began to trail kisses down her neck, his tongue hot and rough against her skin. She closed her eyes at the feel and felt him playfully bite her shoulder.

"Eyes open. Don't make me spank your ass," he warned. He lowered her bra strap and replaced it with his mouth and she gasped watching him flick his tongue across her bare skin. He kissed his way across her collar bones to the other shoulder, pulling the second strap down a little more roughly. She could see the tension in his jaw line as his passion was rising.

Daryl wrapped his strong arms around her, his mouth taking hers again, his tongue insistent, and she felt him expertly unhook her bra and her breasts spilled free. His hands, so large and calloused, immediately cupped them. And he ran a thumb across first one stiff nipple, and then the other, enjoying the shiver that raced through her and the flush of color in her cheeks. His mouth moved down the column of her throat and he bit at the racing pulse, his teeth scraping down her sensitive skin and his tongue soothing the hot burn. She watched as he took one breast in his hot mouth and pinched the other, both were now stiff peaks and she teetered at the edge of pain of ecstasy. He glanced up and smiled a wicked grin, fully aware that she was as turned on as he was. His mouth continued to move lower, his mouth branding her stomach and his tongue lazily teasing her belly button while he continued to fondle her breasts.

"Take off your pants and panties." He ordered, his breath now as ragged as her own.

Crystal was nervous, but she wanted this, wanted him, so much that she began to ease them down while he watched with burning eyes.

"Now lay down." He commanded.

The rug was soft beneath her naked body, but the man who lay on top of her was all hard muscle. The feel of his bare skin and rough denim jeans were setting off a complex mix of sensations.

She reached for the button of his jeans, but Daryl took her hands and easily trapped them above her head with one of his own. The other ran possessively over her shoulders, down the side of her waist, and across to her stomach. He inched his hand slowly down to the center of her, flicking one finger across her clit and making her moan.

"Watch me." And he lowered his mouth between her parted legs. She would have moved, needed to move and touch him, but he held her hands prisoner and his weight had her pinned. She was helpless to him and he tasted her lazily watching the pleasure on her face. It was torture; it was everything she'd ever wanted, and too much all at the same time.

"Please," she begged, and he slowly eased a finger inside of her as he continued to lick her in lazy circles. Crystal felt the climax building, saw his face moist from her own body.

"Oh God," she moaned.

"My name," he insisted with a low growl. "You say my name when I make you come." And those words and the intensity of his stare caused her to explode.

"Daryl!"She screamed as the orgasm ripped through her. "Daryl!" He moved up and again kissed her deeply, releasing her hands which she could now freely roam over his hot body, and she could feel his dick hard and straining against his jeans. This time when she touched her tongue to his, he closed his eyes.

She caressed his hard shoulders, skimming her fingers lightly down his back and felt his moan when she grabbed his ass.

"Shit." He panted and stood up. Crystal watched as he undid the button of his jeans, slid down the zipper, and let them fall to the floor. Daryl did NOT wear underwear and now stood blessedly naked over her, smirking as her eyes roamed over him. This was perfection personified; messy hair, blazing blue eyes, the face of a fallen angel. Then the body – holy damn. Strong shoulders, muscled chest with tattoos, rock hard abs, and Lord, his dick was huge.

"Hope you're ready." He growled, and lay down on top of her, grabbing a fistful of her hair with one hand, kissing her neck, and parting her legs with the other hand.

As he entered her, his tongue plunged into her mouth, both hard and hot and possessive. He filled her completely and there was a fine line between pleasure and pain. Daryl paused and cupped her face in his hands.

"Okay?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Crystal smiled, "Go slow."

"That was my plan. Watch me." He ordered, and began to make love to her. Eyes locked, he began to move slowly but with hard thrusts. She matched his pace pinned under him, her face cradled in his hands. She'd NEVER felt anything like this before. Beautiful, wanted, and precious. She could feel the orgasm building and couldn't stop the ragged moan. He smiled and began to move faster and harder, but she could still feel every inch of him moving in and out of her. While he held her face, he kissed her slowly continuing to thrust hard and she exploded with a scream, calling out his name.

"Okay darlin'. That's two. My turn." He breathed raggedly. Daryl grabbed her waist and flipped her over into her stomach. He was so strong and the move seemed too fast with her head still reeling from her orgasm. Another tug on her waist had her on her knees, ass up in the air.

"Just let me." He ordered, and entered her again, hard and deep, with a low moan that sent shivers up her spine.

He kept his strokes slow and hard, running his hands across her back possessively, and Crystal felt like he was branding her. Another deep stroke, and his hands reached down to her hips, pulling her back against him.

She gave a yelp when his hand came down against her ass the first time, and he laughed wickedly. She'd never been spanked before and was surprised at how much she liked it. Before she could speak, he did it again, harder on the other cheek, never missing a thrust.

"I like that ass pink from my hand. You like it too," he panted.

"God, yes," she replied. She could feel the beginning tingle of the next orgasm already.

Daryl's breathing was becoming ragged; she could feel his hot breath on her back. He slapped her ass one more time, and Crystal exploded with a scream of pure pleasure.

"My name, my name," he said almost like a chant. He grabbed her hips, pulling her against his thrusts so hard she could feel his balls slap against her.

"Daryl," she panted, and felt him come inside her. He couldn't hold back and gave a cry of his own, laying against her and kissing the nape of her neck over and over.

She loved the feel of him, the smell of him, and the sex they'd had. He lay on his side pulling her to him as if he couldn't bear to let her go. She smiled up at him and he kissed her gently, his tongue playful with hers.

"You know, that snow's really coming down. Could be your stuck with me for a while." He said sleepily.

"Oh, I think I can handle you." She answered sleepily.

He wrapped her in his arms and they fell asleep in front of the roaring fire, a tangled lace of arms and legs.

By

B.L. Green


End file.
